Face to Face
by Tears and Rain
Summary: A dark twist to LWW. The happenings in Jadis' castle are too traumatizing for Edmund to maintain his sanity, so Aslan puts the boy's tainted and broken side of existence to sleep. But eventually his other half wakes up, only as his own person. Split personalities and eventual slash between the Edmunds. Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Whoa. I'm actually writing another Narnia story. After how many years? Okay, not ****_years,_**** but it's been a while. I've had this plot in my head for I think a little over a year now, so this is the result of old thoughts and now writing. An odd mix. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own neither the works of C. S. Lewis or Disney or anyone else that had to do with the making of ****_The Chronicles of Narnia_****, books and movies.**

**Warnings: Pedophilia, slash, and the list may grow in the future.**

**Word Count: 1,340**

* * *

Edmund sat in the ice prison, shivering from the cold. Or maybe he was writhing in the burning heat. Was it possible to burn from cold? Apparently. Well, maybe he could ask for fire and cool down. Edmund wheezed out a scoff and winced when it split his chapped lips open. He pulled his sweater over his hands before curling them in fists. _So burning cold... _He blew on his shaking hands and marveled at the fact that his visible breath still felt warm for a few seconds. He flexed the fingers of his right hand and watched how the cracks of his knuckles turned red while the rest stayed a dangerous white.

_Freezing..._ It had been days. It _had_ to had been days. The witch came in once in a while to taunt him, and play with him, and touch him... He like to imagine it was only once every few hours, but something deep inside his mind told him that it was _much_ more often. He had long since stopped fantasizing over a rescue; it's not like anyone cared about him anyway, as Jadis loved to point out _over and over_ again. He was so, _so_ tired... Odd, considering he hadn't moved his legs for hours. His heavy lids drooped over his eyes and he sunk fully to the cold floor, curling in on himself to keep the fading heat as close to his body as possible.

* * *

Edmund tried to catch himself when he was thrown to the ice. He would have been grasping his neck, which the witch had been previously holding him up by, if he could feel the pain any longer. The witch stood above him, grinning sadistically. "I may not have your siblings at the moment," she whispered as she bent down over him. "But that's alright, because _you_ are _so much fun_ to play with. And I shall have them soon now." She finished, mockingly gently caressing his cheek. A deep chuckle vibrated in her throat when he jolted back with a breathless cry. "Oh, you sweet, pretty, poor thing..." She patted his leg before drawing back and standing again. "I can hardly wait 'till I get my hands on your brother. I should like another spirit to crush."

* * *

Laughter. Nothing but threatening, dangerous laughter. Edmund shivered and pulled his sweater closer to his chin with nearly entirely numb fingers as the tones danced over his neck and he felt her hot breath on his skin. _Leave, leave, leave, leave, _leave! Edmund squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a cry when her fingers ran roughly through his hair. After a few seconds of holding his breath, he opened his eyes and... she was gone. Edmund sighed - both in relief and worry, and rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face hard against the ice floor. He was going insane.

* * *

The ice was melting. Everywhere. Edmund's clothes were soaked, and somehow that brought coldness back. He wished he knew why. Was Summer coming? But Summer never came - or so he heard. But what he heard didn't matter. It never mattered. Because it wasn't ever true. But still, it would be nice to be told _something_ some time, other than what the witch whispered to him or taunted him with whenever she visited. He jumped violently when the gate slammed open and Jadis walked in. He pushed his back against the dripping wall when she turned her eyes toward him and pulled his knees to his chest when she leaned over him.

"Well, my pretty thing. You're broken, and weak. Worse than even last time I saw you. In fact, I do not believe I can even call you 'pretty' anymore." He didn't even flinch when she caressed his face anymore, but his stomach still twisted when she mocked him with gentleness. "I'm leaving the castle, setting up camp quite near your dear brother's. I'm here now to decide whether or not to take you along." She tsked when his eyes flashed in horror at the idea of being left behind and he let out a small gasp. "Now now, dear. A good prince never reveals his emotions. You must learn this if you ever wish to rule with me." She chuckled at the weary grimace he didn't try to hide. "I think I'll keep you for now. I can always change my mind later, and while you are breathing, you are entertainment."

* * *

There was no ice in sight. Not that Edmund could completely process that thought. His eye lids were heavy, and his sight was blurry. His head hung uselessly to the side unless someone propped it up so that they could see his face clearly... Well, as clear as they could, with the dirt and sweat covering his skin. His hair hung limp over his forehead, and a filthy gag was constantly wearing at the corners of his mouth. It served no purpose, so Edmund couldn't see why they used it. He wasn't going to talk anyway.

A hazy and frightening amusement came over him when he thought of the last time he spoke - or I guess 'time' isn't the right word to use, considering he didn't know when that was. 'Instance' worked nice, though... Needless to say, his words hadn't made very much sense, but it had included spitting in the dwarf's - Ginarrbrik's face. Also needless to say, it wasn't very wise (no matter how satisfactory) nor appreciated. Edmund mentally giggled; vocally would have hurt his throat too much. It _was_ funny, though.

Speaking of, Ginarrbrik was coming back from wherever he had bustled off to. Edmund tried to calm his violent shaking when he saw the short creature fondle his knife, and tried to hide the insides of his arms where stinging cuts - some deep, some light, still marked his pale skin. "Is our little prince comfortable?" The large dwarf's harsh voice reached his ear and he didn't care if he flinched back and away from the approaching footsteps. Ginarrbrick pressed the flat of his blade against Edmund's neck, just below his jaw line.

He wished the dwarf to leave, but still, he spoke and taunted. "Does he want his pillow fluffed?" The mocking words burned his stomach and the weapon was convincing him to see how far his neck could stretch. "Special treatment for the special _boy!"_ With the last word, Ginarrbrik quickly turned the dagger and cut shallow into Edmund's tender skin. Edmund cried out as much as he could, and vaguely realized that _this _was what the gag was for. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

The dark whisper in his ear was the last familiar sound he heard for a while. Right after that, he felt a hostility in the camp that was not there before. And soon enough, cries of animals and... humans? Edmund wasn't sure. He was dizzy, and the yelling was upsetting his stomach. He wished he could put his head between his knees and block out whatever arousal had stirred in the camp, knowing he would only see hazy colors and blurry shapes anyway.

But suddenly there was something pulling at his neck. He couldn't process entirely what it was, but he knew it _hurt!_ He couldn't breathe... _breathe!_ Now there weren't even shapes, it was just black, black, black, but sometimes white. There was no air, and no eyes. He was drowning - drowning on land with air so near...

* * *

Finally, almost a week later, the nervous children turned to Aslan, in fear of the worst. Their brother had shown no signs of waking at all, and he had suffered great blood loss from his wounds. Despite the lions' constant reassurances that Edmuind would live, three Pevensies began to doubt. They were sent out of Edmund's tent and Aslan walked nearer to the boy's resting place. "Edmund," he quietly called.

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**REVIEW, PLEASE! I'm not too attached to this (and other stories are being waited on) on so if you want me to keep this going, REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I am posting this small thing now without the rest of the (hopefully) soon to be finished chapter two to apologize to my followers for not letting you know I was writing slash! I'mm so sorry! I seem to remember having some good reason for not putting it in my A/N, but it escapes my mind at the moment. Feel free to stop following this story. No hard feelings. :) Again, I am terribly sorry. The "warning" is now in the description and A/N for new readers.**

**If you like the idea of this story, but not slash, leave a review (anonymous or not) telling me so. If I get enough reviews like that, when it gets to the point where romance comes in, I can post a new fanfiction picking up to where you left off, with the Edmunds just as fri****ends, but still following th****e original story id****ea.**  


**(Word Count: 299**

* * *

Oreius, general of Aslan's army, tore through the camp with his small band of soldiers, either gutting or slashing all the beasts they passed. His mission was clear and simple. _Find Edmund._ He would call him king when he was proven worthy of the title. But now, his only task was to _find _the child It only took a few seconds.

Deep in the center of the woods was an old dwarf, threatening a frail child with a large curved knife. Stomping his hooves twice, the general raised his sword toward the dwarf. In just a few swift motions, the knife was out of his hand and he was at Oreius' mercy. But before any blows were dealt, though, a hag jumped from the fray around them and began to attack the centaur. Taking advantage of the distraction, Ginnarbrik took a leather cord from the ground and wound it around the boy's neck quickly, trying it with a not before Oreius could stop him.

The boy threw his head back, gagged mouth and eyes opened wide. His fingers dug into the ground and his nails clawed at the tree roots when they met. He was making a horrible sound as he gasped in no air. With a few well calculated swipes, the hag was dead. The dwarf was already defenseless, so Oreius took no time in embedding his sword in the back of the tree the human was bound to and severing the leather cord and the ropes wound twice around the tree.

The son of Adam slumped forward, head falling between his knees. Bending down, Oreius gently, but quickly pulled the boy up and into his arms, cradling the child as best he could. His soldiers were ready, and they could move out. They did so.

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**R****evi****ews matt****er! ****Esp************ecially wh************en th************e chapt************er thingy is just a hid************e-out for an author's apology and important qu************estion! Would you lik************e two v************ersions of this story running at onc************e?**


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